I’d snubbed Educating Yorkshire as resolutely and stubbornly as I’d ignored my algebra teacher, back in the day.
Channel 4 cocking a snobby snook at Northern working class kids, surely?
WRONG. (Imagine in scrawly red biro).
I watched on Monday. It’s on just after the anti-climax that is Sex Box and it gets full marks from me.
This fly-on-the-wall is a warm, revealing, often humorous exploration of life in the corridors and classrooms of a Dewsbury secondary school.
It’s loads better than Waterloo Road. Better even than Grange Hill. And that’s saying something.
Thank God, the camera crews don’t mock these kids, and so nor do viewers. As it airs, Twitter turns positively glowy.
Easy to see why. Vile, feckless, ignorant youth of today? Nah. All the girls are utterly lovable, what with their identical hairdos and Etch-a-sketch eyebrows and their doing-themselves-down so that no one else has to do it for them. And most of the boys, just starting to sprout their testosterone and itching for their stubble to do the same, are just desperate for direction. I want to adopt them all. Which would probably be an easier role than teaching them.
But the best thing this series does is highlight how incredibly difficult, stressful, tiring, rewarding and at times utterly brilliant a teacher’s life is. They are heroes in my jotter, now.
Especially that Mr Steer, who is proper going to kill himself at this rate. That contact dermatitis of his just keeps on spreading. It’s down past his knees now. Though typical male workaholic martyr, he’s still valiantly limping the corridors and I can’t help wondering; is he just as much of an attention-seeker as Sheridan?